


our blaze of glory turns ordinary over night

by butmomilovepeter



Series: we’re in the endgame now [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Soul Stone (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 06:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butmomilovepeter/pseuds/butmomilovepeter
Summary: “I saw the one future where we beat Thanos. And this is it.” He wraps an arm around Peter. “Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are part of the key. But Tony must be dying now. That’s why. His soul is tied to Peter’s.”“His what?” Bucky’s voice is frantic. Strange sighed and continued.“That’s why Peter was in there. He needs to get to Tony to get him to live.” He stops suddenly, looking weary. “If Tony dies...not only does our chances decrease, but Peter dies in here.”The weight of dying again crushes him.





	our blaze of glory turns ordinary over night

He wakes up in orange.

He’s not  _ really  _ awake, but he wasn’t sure what classified as awake right now. What classified as as anything right now. 

He  _ feels  _ orange. He didn’t know you could feel color.  

It’s a strange feeling, almost nostalgic, melancholy. Like he was longing for something he once had, but could no longer find. 

He had an overwhelming urge to call out for his father. 

_ You don’t have a father. Not anymore,  _ the orange seems to say.  _ So why ask for him? _

_ I do! I know I do. I feel him in my soul,  _ he wants to say back. But he can’t. The orange is starting to hurt now. It feels as if it’s ripping his skin off; like his body is being waxed with wax hotter than the sun, and when it’s ripped off, it takes years from his life. 

_ Stop it. Please stop.  _

**_Stop_ ** _.  _

It stops. But only for a moment. He falls back into orange. 

When he wakes up again it’s not the same. It hurts, but different than before. His lungs burn. They are filled with orange. His eyes are being squeezed. His fingers are being broken and put back, broken and back, broken and back. 

He can’t even  _ scream,  _ there’s too much orange in his lungs. 

_ Mama, Mama, make it stop! _

He has a glimpse of a woman he knows.  

_ May, May, please! Please…. _

He doesn’t have a mother. He forgot who May was. 

It’s the third time he wakes up that he realizes that he’s being tortured. He must be in Hell. What did he do to deserve it? He can’t remember anything; he doesn’t even remember dying. 

He wants his father. The orange keeps telling him he doesn’t have one, but it’s wrong. He knows he has a father.

This time, the orange decides to pull all the hair off his body, one hair by one hair. Then it grows back and they start again. He has that feeling again. The one of longing. He wants to cry, but it seems he’s forgotten how. He wants his father. And his mother. 

_ You don’t deserve either, child,  _ the orange says again. 

He remembers how to cry again. 

 

The next time he wakes up, he’s  _ in  _ the orange, but he can’t feel the orange. He hears voices, feels hands. 

“Pull him out! Why is he in there!?” He barely recognizes the voice, yet he felt like he knew it. 

_ Don’t! Please, it hurts!  _

They don’t hear. 

“We’re trying, Quill.” Another voice, this time firmer, says. “Careful! You’re hurting him.” 

The hands let go. The orange welcomes him back. 

 

He is freed of the orange suddenly. He can breathe, and it’s  _ not  _ the orange. 

But he’s not quite used to it yet, so the moment his lungs are met with air, he chokes. 

He still can’t quite see, but the hands from the voice hold on tight to him. They say things he really doesn’t here, but somehow he knows he’s safe. If he could only  _ breathe.  _

“You’re okay! You’re okay, kid.” The new but familiar voice says, the one that rubs the back of his head and lowers him to the ground. 

“Mm’not-- _ I’m not.”  _ Those are the first words he speaks. He doesn’t know why he chose them, but he feels their meaning run through his body. It aches. All the pain from the orange caught up at once. 

“What’s wrong with him?!” The voice says again. He squirms on whatever ground he was on, the hand underneath his head. There were new delicate fingers on his temples, and his vision is cleared for a moment. He sees about three faces in his view, all looking down at him, and sees a fourth and fifth distantly. 

“Hurts…” He mumbles miserably. He remembers wanting his father and mother. He knows these aren’t them, but the hands are comforting enough. 

“I know, Peter.” And he knows that voice. He knows...that  _ name.  _

“Peter.” He says it so definitely, that the pain goes aways. His vision clears even more, and he sees the faces. The one holding his head is Peter Quill, a man who only met once, but remembered well enough. The woman at his temples is Wanda Maximoff. There’s a hurt in her eyes, but she smiles down on him.

But the one helping him to his feet? None other than Dr.Strange. 

When Peter stumbles on his feet, the man catches his elbow. He gets a good look around, and it’s just endless orange. But he’s not breathing it anymore.

“What...was that?” Peter gasps, cracking his neck and rubbing his arms. He gets a good look at himself, and the memories rush into his mind. He’s in his spider-suit, the one--the one Tony Stark made him.  

_ I’m sorry,  _ he had said.

Dr.Strange seemed to notice Peter’s realization, holding him steady for a moment before pulling him close in a hug. Peter didn’t even realize he needed one until now. 

“Something...not quite right.” Strange answers, still within the hug. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” a voice says behind them. “That didn’t happen to any of us.”

“Yeah, wherever we are, the kid was the only one who was hurt.” The other one says. He doesn’t know them that well, but he’s seen enough pictures to know it’s Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. The look worn and tired, all of them do, but they all stare at Peter with concern. Strange slips out of the hug but places his hands on Peter’s shoulders. 

“I know you have questions.” Strange says, locking eyes with the boy. Peter nodded, but didn’t talk. He was afraid enough, he didn’t really  _ want  _ his questions answered. Strange sighed a sigh of care. 

“I think we’re in the soul stone. Thanos must still have it.” Strange fumbles with his cape, which Peter realizes isn’t so...sentient anymore. “After we...died, we were sent here.” 

“Why this group though? I don’t understand it.” Quill inquires. Strange sighs again. 

“I know it has something to do with us fighting Thanos directly. I just don’t know why  _ us _ in particular.” 

Peter feels nausea hit him quickly, and he sways dangerously. Quill catches his other arm.

“You alright, man? You seem shaky.” He asks. Peter offers a wavering smile. 

“Dunno. Might have something to with all that…” Peter can’t find the words to describe it. “What happened to me?” 

No one speaks. They all avoid his eyes. “What?” 

“Peter? That’s your name?” Bucky asks when no one talks. Peter nods. “We all started showing up randomly and then we found you like that...and I don’t know how time works here but--”

“You were like that for awhile, kid.” Sam finishes softly. 

“Like what?”

“You were screaming. Like you were in pain. But nothing was happening. You were in some sort of orange beam.”  Quill’s voice is quiet. Like if he talks too loud Peter will break. “But when we touched it, we didn’t feel a thing. Every time we tried to pull you out, it only seemed to hurt more.” Peter gulps in spite of himself. 

“I can feel your fear,” Wanda says kindly. Then, her smiles drops to a frown as she gets closer.“Something’s wrong with you. But I don’t--I don’t understand what.” 

That’s when Peter’s knees give out.

He falls harder than intended. It’s not even graceful, he drops like a stone in a river. He feels Strange and Quill grab his arms, hears Bucky shout his name. One of them pulls him, and he feels his head get cushioned in one of their laps. 

For the first time, he falls into black. 

 

He wakes up slowly. His eyes flutter, trying to get rid of the headache. He sees Wanda’s face above him, staring down with sympathy and concern. 

“Peter? You with us?” Strange says from his side. Peter attempts a nod, but groans when he moves too much. 

“Yeah. I’m-I’m okay.” He says quietly. He sits up slowly, with the help of Wanda at his shoulder. He watches the other men, now sitting nearby, breathe collective sighs.

“Don’t scare us like that, kid.” Quill says, almost like a laugh. 

“What happened?” 

“Hoping you could tell us, Peter.” Strange offers. “ _ You  _ were the one who just were unconscious for twenty minutes.”

_ “Twenty minutes?”  _ Peter exclamies. 

“Roughly.” Strange explains. “But you were out cold.” He gives Peter a look to continue. 

“I don’t know. I’ve been uneasy since you pulled me out. It happened so fast, I didn’t see it coming.” 

No one talks for a moment, and Peter counts the seconds. 

“Peter,” Strange pipes up suddenly. “Peter, what did you see when you were in the beam?” 

Peter thinks for a moment.  _ Your father,  _ he thinks.  _ You thought off...no. Not your father.  _

He remembers now what he saw. 

“Mr.Stark. I saw Tony.” He says eventually. “I kept...calling out for him, I guess?” 

This answer seems to have some impact on Strange, because he’s suddenly being pulled to his feet by Strange. 

“Was it all Tony?” Strange’s eyes are a it wild.

“No,” Peter replies. “I saw my aunt once. But mostly Tony.” 

“Where did you feel it? The wanting?” Strange knew exactly what he was asking. Peter did too. 

“My soul.” Peter’s voice cracks by accident. Strange exhales sharply.

“What? What’s happening?” Sam asks as Strange pulls Peter back to the beam. 

“Pepper mustn't have died. You’re next in line.” Strange whispers a bit madly. 

“Dr.Strange?” Peter asks, sounding younger than he means to. Strange pauses, composes himself, and faces the group. 

“I saw the one future where we beat Thanos. And this is it.” He wraps an arm around Peter. “Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are part of the key. But Tony  _ must  _ be dying now. That’s why. His soul is tied to Peter’s.” 

“His  _ what?”  _ Bucky’s voice is frantic. Strange sighed and continued. 

“ _ That’s  _ why Peter was in there. He needs to get to Tony to get him to live.” He stops suddenly, looking weary. “If Tony dies...not only do our chances decrease, but Peter dies in here.” 

The weight of dying  _ again _ crushes him. 

“No..” He mumbles.  

“So what do we do?” Wanda asks. Strange looks down at Peter, and Peter can almost tell what he’s about to say. 

“You have to go back in there.” He says, apologetically. Peter feels the tears prick his eyes. 

“I  _ can’t.”  _ He whispers. 

But he realizes, he has to. 

 

He takes a deep breath, an inch away from the orange beam. 

_ You’re gonna save Tony. And the world. It’ll just hurt for a second,  _ he tells himself. 

“Dr.Strange?” He asks, looking back at the group. “Where will I go?” 

Strange sighs, looking mournful. 

“I don’t know. But we’ll get you out if it becomes too much.” He replies. Peter tries for a smile. 

“Then...it’ll be an adventure.” The group smiles at him, Wanda with tears in her eyes. 

He steps into orange. 

It’s cold this time, and he almost forgets again. 

_ No. My name is Peter Parker. I need to find Tony Stark. _

The coldness disappears, and the scene changes. 

It’s a ship. He feels how thin the air is despite him not actually breathing it. He looks down. He’s in his outfit from the day Tony and him met, but he feels like his normal age. 

And he sees Tony. He looks half-dead. Tony says that he doesn’t believe he’s there, which while reasonable, is not necessary.  _ He comes from him and Tony’s soul.  _

He can’t hear his own voice, but he knows the gist of what he says. He watches as his mentor cries, the look in his eyes  _ begging  _ to end the suffering. 

_ “Don’t do that.” Don’t sleep. Don’t die. You can’t.  _

Tony wants to, he knows that. But facing him now? Peter can’t let him.

When he sees a light from someone’s portal, the hope starts in Tony’s eyes again. 

_ “You’ve been saved, Mr.Stark.”  _ He says, feeling unwanted tears form in his eyes.  _ “Now save me.”  _

 

His soul his pulled back into the stone, and he can’t help but start sobbing as Wanda hugs him on his knees. 

**Author's Note:**

> whoops accidentally made my own plan for endgame


End file.
